" "And leave you thus?" rejoined Jack. Even then it sent Spurlock spinning backward, to crash against the wall. Every house-top, every window, every wall, every projection, had its occupants. "What poet was that?" "Stevenson. The library was on the ground floor, Melusine recalled from the previous visit, for she had searched through a desk in a room filled with bookshelves of leatherbound volumes. She had not thought anything could equal her despair at that moment.
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